My Greatest Joy
by quillon
Summary: Faramir spends the day with his son....one-shot....please R&R...I changed the title but it's the same story.


Disclaimer: Not my characters, but I do take time out to feed them occasionally.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Is there aught I can do to help you, Éowyn?" I had sent letters to all of our dearest friends and family a few weeks earlier, inviting them all to come visit Emyn Arnen for our seventh anniversary party. Though most married couples would have preferred to spend their wedding anniversary alone together, we both thought that we would do well to share this joyous occasion with all who had helped us to achieve it.  
  
As our guests would be arriving within the week, Éowyn and her army of servants had begun to attack the house, scouring all dirt and clutter from its rooms with incredible efficiency. I, myself, had spent most of the last week huddled within the shelter of my study, attempting to stay out of their way. To be certain, I caught up on much of my reading that week, though I cannot say it was a relaxing time for any of us truly. Oft Éowyn would open the door only long enough to shove our young son Elboron through, bidding me to entertain him and so keep him from underfoot.  
  
Such it was on this morning when I had offered my aid to my wife.  
  
"Oh, Faramir, there you are," she said somewhat absently, surveying the hearth in the great hall, her hair pulled up into a kerchief, her face and clothing smudged with soot. Finally, seeming satisfied with her handiwork, she turned her full attention upon me, and grinned. "How does it look, husband?"  
  
"It looks very fetching," I replied, but it quickly became obvious that we were not speaking of the same thing.  
  
"Faramir! The hearth? How does it look?"  
  
"Oh, hmm." I cleared my throat and reluctantly broke my gaze from her, looking upon the hearth, which in truth looked no different to me than it had before. "It looks . . . clean enough," I said, uncertain of what words she was actually hoping to hear. Her silence was enough to prove that 'clean enough' had not been the proper choice. She stood tapping her foot, her expression similar to one a starving dog might cast upon a morsel of meat. "My lady, it is lovely!" I began in hopes of saving myself from her wrath. "I only wish that you would not work so hard. These are our friends that are coming. They would not wish you to put yourself to so much trouble on their behalf."  
  
If she was going to reply, it was interrupted by Elboron, who bounded down the stairs and into the great hall, pretending to ride a horse, slashing at imaginary enemies with an invisible sword. Her expression melted into one of great tenderness, and she called him forth. Reluctantly, he quit his game and came to stand in front of her, obviously expecting a reprimand. But she simply knelt in front of him and straightened his clothing, smoothing his hair out of his face.  
  
"Elboron," she said to the fidgety four-year-old, "how would you like to spend the rest of the day with your father?" She glanced up at me as if seeking my approval, and I smiled down upon her.  
  
"For true?" he asked, energetically turning to me and jumping up and down as he began to explain to me what he would like to accomplish on this fine spring day.  
"Yes, son," I murmured repeatedly, glancing to his mother now and again as she observed us together. Her face was one of contented peacefulness. With one last look at her, I swept Elboron into my arms and took him outside, so we might enjoy the day together.  
  
Elboron was my greatest joy. It was wondrous to view the world through his eyes, as everything became new to me when I was with him. And the questions he would ask! He was the most inquisitive child that I have ever encountered. But I never grew tired of him, no matter what he did. We spent some time exploring the woods surrounding the house, eventually settling down on our dock upon the River Anduin to do some fishing in the warmth of the afternoon.  
  
Impatiently, he grabbed at the pole as I baited his hook with a wriggling worm. Handing him the pole finally, I mussed his hair, and helped him to lower the worm beneath the surface of the water.  
  
As I watched him concentrate upon his line that dangled in the swift current, I thought back to the long summer days that Boromir and I used to spend in Dol Amroth with Uncle Imrahil and Aunt Ancalimë and their children, and I remembered the great fun that we had while fishing from a pier that jutted into the Bay of Belfalas. It had often ended as a terrific worm fight, but never had we been unhappy. Briefly, I wondered what Boromir would think of his namesake. I know that Elboron would have been in awe of Boromir's ability to fill a room with his mere presence, and I would wager that Boromir would have been charmed by Elboron's innocent wonder of all that he encountered.  
  
My attention turned back to my son, and I noticed that he was beginning to tire, his eyelids fluttering closed more frequently, his head bowing occasionally. After pulling my own line from the river, I placed my arm about his shoulders and also pulled his line from the water, setting both of our poles aside. Pulling him against my chest, I leaned back upon the sun-warmed wood of the dock, my legs bent, letting his small body rest upon mine, and slept, his head nuzzled against my throat.  
  
Thus Éowyn found us some time later, calling my name softly. I opened my eyes, uncertain at first of where I was, and then upon feeling the familiar weight upon my chest, I remembered and sighed contentedly as I turned my face toward my wife. Her face was radiant as she looked upon us, but though she was reluctant to disturb us, she told me that it was fast approaching time for dinner.  
  
With one last stroke down my son's back, I sat up, waking him. He mumbled something and then sat upon my lap looking rather irritated, while he rubbed his eyes and yawned repeatedly.  
  
"Elboron, are you hungry?" Éowyn asked him, and with a nod he was up, taking her hand, his want of sleep forgotten, and I watched her lead him up the path to our home, and I thought my heart might burst with the joy of it. 


End file.
